


Mac 'N Me

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-26
Updated: 2011-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean and Mac go to a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mac 'N Me

Mackenzie Astin grinned at the mob scene surrounding him. He nudged his older brother and leaned to murmur in his ear. "Haven't seen so many stiff suits since mom's last book promotion." Sean cocked his head to grin at his brother. "Who are these people?" Mac asked, taking the room in with a sweep of his hand.

Sean smiled. "This," He informed his younger, taller brother, "is the executive branch of New Line Cinema." He stirred his drink with a deft twist of his wrist and tossed the swizzle stick to the tabletop. "And we are being feted because your brother got lucky."

Mac stared hard at Sean. "Knock it off!" he ground out. "If anyone got lucky, it's them." Sean squinted at Mac, then lowered his eyes. Mac leaned toward him a bit and smiled. "You were a magnificent Samwise Gamgee. Brilliant and inspiring. It was the role of a lifetime, and you not only filled its shoes, you filled its hobbity feet!"

"Mac." Sean drawled, obviously embarrassed. "Stop. You're biased and you know it."

Mac regarded his older brother with frustrated eyes. Sean insisted on downplaying his role in any venture, and Mac found the trait to be somewhat exasperating. The Astin brothers claimed to be fiercely competitive, and annoyed their famous mother at every opportunity with completely faked and highly exaggerated quarrels about whose last performance was the better.

But Mac knew that, inwardly, Sean never saw himself as pivotal to any production. And Mac also knew that this time, Sean was dead wrong. He wanted to grab the broad shoulders and shake Sean until his vision cleared.

He had been at Sean's house when the invitation to this event arrived, and Chris had made it caustically clear that one more suit infested cocktail party was the last thing she cared to attend. The atmosphere in the Astin home had been more tension-filled than at any other time in Mac's memory.

He was quickly pressed into service to attend the party with Sean and was happy to fill her slot. But he had hoped for something a bit more stimulating than this bunch of yattering yuppies.

"Hey!" he said quickly, poking Sean's arm. "Is Elijah coming to this thing?" Elijah was fun and Mac would be glad to see him. Besides, there was a tight-lipped sadness in his brother the last few times they'd been together that worried Mac. Elijah always put a smile on Sean's face.

Sean had looked away without answering. "Hey!" Mac goaded. "Is Elijah coming to this thing?

Sean shrugged and looked somewhere over Mackenzie's left shoulder. "Dunno."

"Don't know?" Mac asked sharply, obviously surprised. "Don't you two talk anymore?"

Sean still looked out over the crowd. His hazel eyes focusing on nothing, merely drifting. "Not as much, no."

"Why not?" Mac questioned. "You have a fight or something?"

"No!" Sean shot back, obviously finding the suggestion unsettling. Then he bent his head as if he were trying to relieve tension in his neck, and took a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice was carefully controlled: "Mac, do we have to talk about Elijah? There's been no fight. We just travel in different circles now."

"Uh huh." Mac muttered, clearly unimpressed by Sean's answer. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Sean raised his hand, palm extended toward his brother.

"Stop. Stop now. Just let it go." Sean's tone and the narrowing glint of his eyes both warned and pleaded, and Mac lowered his head. He wondered if he hadn't inadvertently stumbled onto the source of the   
sadness that seemed to permeate Sean's spirt lately. He decided to push his luck a bit, hoping for a glimmer of understanding.

"He seemed like a nice kid." Mac replied softly. "He seemed to really care about you."

The quick twist in Sean's mouth gave Mac the answer he was looking for. Here was a clue that Sean couldn't control. That expression went back to their childhood and Sean's valiant attempts to choke off his tears in the midst of their mother's tirades. He always tried to be brave. His little brother would be even more upset if he saw Sean's tears. So he never let them fall.

But Mac knew. He knew then. And he knew now.

Sean picked up the discarded swizzle stick and beat a tattoo onto the tabletop. "He's very nice." He said quietly.

"And. . . " Mac prompted.

Sean shrugged. "I suppose he cares about me."

"You 'suppose'? After all the time you spent with him, I would think you'd know that, not suppose it." Mac knew he was pushing it, but Sean hadn't smacked him down yet and that usually indicated that, on some level, conscious or not, he was ready to talk about things.

"Mac, I can't speak to how Elijah feels about me. I rarely discussed such things with him." Mac saw Sean's brows beginning to move toward each other, a sure sign that his bullheaded stubbornness was about to kick into high gear. He decided to risk a low blow.

"You talked to me a bit about what the two of you shared in New Zealand, Sean. How could you have let that wither and die?" For one split second Sean's eyes drilled into Mac's. "Jesus fucking christ, Mac!" Sean blazed. "You don't know fuck about it! How can you say that? LET it? What would you have suggested I do?"

Mac smiled slowly, and Sean sighed and rolled his eyes. He threw the swizzle stick to the table in self-disgust. He hadn't meant to reveal so much. But Mac knew exactly which buttons to push to provoke him   
into an outburst.

Sean shrugged as if his flood of emotion were insignificant and smiled too, hoping against hope that his younger brother could be circumvented. "It's no big deal, Mac. He and I are still friends.'

"What's this?" Mac inquired with raised eyebrows. "Damage control? Too late, bro." He cast a quizzical look at Sean, and observed him quietly for a moment.

"How do you really feel about him, Sean?" Mac asked quietly.

Sean was silent for a long moment, but Mac knew he wasn't evading. The faraway expression meant only that was Sean groping his way through the countless internal file cabinets that held his $64,000 vocabulary,   
trying to match any of what he found there with the feelings raging inside him. Mac tilted his head and cast a troubled look in Sean's direction. "Not an easy one to define?"

Sean's looked at him hard and then gestured to the room and the dozens of chatting people flowing around them like water. "Does this seem to you to be the place for this kind of discussion?"

Mac started to answer when suddenly the energy in the room seemed to spike dramatically. The current of the human river flowing around them swerved abruptly and drifted toward the door. Mac stood up to see who might have arrived to cause such a stir and grinned. "Dom and Billy are here." He waved but had no idea if they'd seen him through the mob.

He heard Sean grunt and saw him nod. "Well, flag them over here if you can."

Then Mac heard the noise of the crowd change. Become, at the same time, louder, but somehow more hushed. As though the people huddling around the door had seen something extraordinary and were trying to comprehend its significance. Mac saw Dom turn and laugh and a spiky head of hair appeared next to his shoulder. Elijah.

He turned to his brother. "Elijah's with them." He watched Sean unflinchingly, wanting to see Sean's response before he had time to carefully rearrange his features into something smoothly nonchalant.

There. The quick twist of his mouth again. A narrowing of his eyes as if he were gripped by sudden pain. And a slight wincing of his body that reminded Mac, painfully, of a similar gesture that their mother   
habitually displayed when gripped by emotional distress.

Mac stood up on his chair and whistled loudly. Then he waved in the direction of the other three hobbits. "Mac!" Sean exclaimed, half-standing to pull on his brother's arm. "Sit down! Let it go. They'll walk   
over when they can."

"Hey," Mac told Sean, determinedly staying on the chair. "You're the one who told me to do this."

Mac saw Dom smile and wave back at him, and then turn to Elijah, shaking his arm and pointing in Mac's direction. Elijah turned toward Mac and, seeing him, his face opened in a radiant smile. Mac smiled   
back thinking: He sees me and knows Sean's here. That's what the smile's all about.

He saw the three hobbits moving toward him and resumed his seat. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing behind him. "They're coming." He said to his brother.

Sean nodded and shook himself as if trying to throw off a bad mood. Then he grinned at Mac. "Great! I'm glad they're here."

Mac's skeptical expression was not lost on his older brother and Sean frowned. "Look," He said, his voice tight. "Just keep your mouth shut about what we've been discussing. OK?"

The hobbits crowded nosily around Sean and Mac's table, dragging up chairs, ruffling Sean's hair, shadow boxing with Mac. Elijah was the last to approach them and was noticeably quieter than Billy and Dom. He didn't join in when the others were man-handling Sean, and merely patted Mac's arm before sitting down next to him.

Sean was grinning and roughhousing with Billy. He was seated next to Sean and took advantage of this to lean over and lick his cheek. Sean made a grab for his tongue. "Show that thing to me and you're gonna LOSE it!" Sean threatened. "I'll use it to clean my car!"

"Or when you change Lizzie!" Dom countered, laughing hysterically.

To Mac, Sean's genial banter seemed forced. The good spirits of the moment never touched his eyes. There was a strained uneasiness surrounding the table and as far as Mac could tell, Sean and Elijah had yet to exchange a single word.

Drinks were grabbed and distributed, people stopped by the table to talk to, or congratulate, the young actors, and the hobbits continued to playfully badger each other. Mac found himself sitting in the center   
of a swirling whirlwind of people and conversations.

Elijah was, as always, at the center of the vortex. His stunning beauty and effervescent personality combined to create an aura that couldn't help but captivate. Elijah drew people like a huge magnet.

His fluid expressions sparkled from one person to another, the tilt of his head implied interest in everything each person was saying, the scintillating glow of his eyes elevated each person he looked at to the   
status of 'friend'. Elijah was beguiling and completely irresistible.

But Mac wasn't watching Elijah. He was watching his brother watching Elijah. Or, more accurately, he was watching his brother trying not to watch Elijah, and failing.

Sean's eyes constantly flickered to his right, glancing again and again toward the commotion surrounding Elijah. His expression was guardedly neutral and he continued to harangue Dom and Billy nearly non-stop. But, for Mac, the fact that Sean couldn't seem to stop himself from looking was revealing.

He nudged Elijah, wondering if Sean's young co-star would be anymore forthcoming than his big brother. "Hi, Lij. How's it going?"

Elijah turned to him at once, and smiled gently. "Hey, Mac. God, it's good to see you."

"Good to see you too, buddy." Mac told him, half-surprised to discover that he actually meant it. It was good to see him. Mac liked Elijah a lot. He paused for a moment, wondering how to approach Elijah, and took the undiplomatic route, hoping Sean wouldn't overhear.

"Are you and Sean on the outs?" He asked quietly. "You haven't even said 'hello' to each other."

Elijah's extraordinary eyes widened. He shot a quick glance in Sean's direction and Sean's darting gaze suddenly rested fully upon him. For a moment Sean's hazel eyes darkened and glinted gold and Mac heard Elijah's breath catch. Then he quickly looked away. "Excuse me, Mac." Elijah said almost inaudibly. He stood up and walked away from the table, moving through the crowd toward the balcony.

Sean's eyes followed him as he walked away, his expression one of unconcealed loss. He flashed a look at his brother, his gaze challenging. "Where's he going?" Sean rasped. "And more importantly, why?"

"Gee, I dunno." Mac replied, unflinchingly returning Sean's gaze. "Why don't you go see?"

Dom and Billy had been twitting each other, but stopped in mid-sentence to look sharply at Sean and Mac. Sean shifted uncomfortably and shook his head. "Probably going to the john. He'll be back." He turned back to Dom and Billy.

Mac nodded. "Could be." He rose slowly and Sean rotated his body to watch him. "Think I'll just go see though. He seemed upset." Mac didn't miss the alarmed look that crossed Sean's face. Or the fact that he half-rose from his chair as if to follow. Mac raised his palm to the three other hobbits, all of whom were now looking at him with anxious eyes. "I'll check on him."

He walked toward the balcony, sure that's where he saw Elijah heading. But when he got there the terrace was deserted. He hadn't seen him in the room when he passed through, and with the crowd that he drew, Elijah was nearly impossible to miss. Mac sighed, hoping that Elijah hadn't decided to leave. He moved to re-enter the living room when a small sound stopped him.

"Mac?" Elijah's voice floated softly across the balcony from the far, dark corner. Suddenly Mac smelled cloves and smiled.

"Lij? You here?" After only a moment Elijah's face appeared, illuminated by the incandescent tip of the cigarette he was inhaling. As he lifted his head, mouth billowing smoke, and palmed the   
cigarette, he effectively disappeared.

"Yeah. Here, Mac. Pull up some floor." Elijah was sitting cross-legged on the floor, back leaning against the corner wall of the veranda. He was half-shielded by a fairly large fern and would be hard to see   
unless he wanted to be seen.

Mac crossed to him quickly and sat beside him, resting his back on the crisscrossed wrought iron of the balcony railing. "Sorry if I spoke out of turn back there, Lij." Mac murmured. "I'm just worried."

Elijah shook his head, inhaling again deeply. "No, no. It's OK." He seemed about to speak again, and stopped himself and sighed briefly.

"I'm worried about Sean." Mac told him. "But I'm worried about you too."

Elijah glanced sideways at him and gave a small shrug. "I'm OK." He said in a voice that seemed anything but OK. There was a prolonged silence which Mac did not break. Then Elijah sighed and half-whispered. "It's how he wants it."

"What?" Mac queried. "You have got to be kidding, Elijah!"

Elijah shook his head. "No. Sean wants it this way. If he didn't . . . " He opened his mouth but no words came out and he bit his lip hard.

"Jesus, Lij, I'm sorry. I stupidly thought it was you who had distanced yourself."

Elijah shook his head again. "God, Mac. I'd never. . ." He stammered. " I mean, I don't ever want to. . . " His voice trailed off and he quickly sucked the clove cigarette back into his mouth as if needed the   
distraction.

Mac sat in silence for a long moment, frankly astounded by what he'd just heard. He had assumed that Elijah had been the one who drifted away. That Sean was pining over having lost his friend and comrade. Now it seemed that the situation was totally the reverse.

"Did he tell you this?" Mac asked Elijah.

Elijah nodded slowly. "Yeah," he whispered, clearly affected by the memory.

Mac felt bad for making Elijah relive a moment that he obviously found extremely painful. But he had to get to the bottom of this. He leaned toward Elijah and reached for the young man's shoulders, turning him until they were face to face.

"Listen, buddy. I'm so fucking sorry to do this to you. But I have GOT to know what happened between you and Sean. He's drooping around like a basset hound, won't talk to me about you at all, and the atmosphere at his house is, shall we say, less than friendly at the moment. Won't you please tell me what happened?"

Elijah looked at him, and Mac could see that his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He draped his arms over Elijah's shoulders to offer what support he could. "I'm not Sean Astin." He joked, shaking Elijah   
lightly. "But I'm not a bad Assssstin."

Elijah gave him a small smile and Mac shook him again. "Please tell me."

Elijah drew a deep breath and directed his eyes somewhere over Mac's right shoulder. "He told me that we couldn't be. . . close anymore. That he couldn't see me in any non-public venue. He said he . . . " Elijah faltered and Mac saw his lip quiver. He tightened his hands on Elijah's shoulders and nodded.

"He said . . . what, Elijah?" Mac prompted.

"He said he loved me." Elijah said quickly, his head lowered. "And he said that being around me was too tempting, that he was afraid he'd do something stupid and reckless." Elijah was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head and looked directly at Mac. The raw anguish in his eyes was more than Mac could bear. He pulled Elijah into his arms and hugged him briefly.

Elijah smiled his thanks and once again seemed to ponder a faraway spot over Mac's right shoulder. This time Mac silently thanked him for not directing those pain-filled eyes his way. Then Elijah sighed deeply. "He said a lot of other things but that was the gist of it. Most of the rest was just . . . " Elijah shrugged. "You know. 'I'm sorry.' and 'You'll get over it.' Stuff like that."

"Were you lovers?" Mac asked quietly.

Elijah shuddered and Mac saw his eyes go all shiny again. "Once." Elijah replied, his voice a hoarse whisper. "In New Zealand." He quickly controlled himself and grabbed Mac's arm. "Mac, please don't mention that to Sean. He might not like me telling anyone."

"Of course, Lij." Mac assured him, patting his hand. "Nothing we've talked about is going back to Sean, except for the fact that I now know it was him who caused your breakup. THAT" Mac said with a half-angry emphasis. "he is going to hear about!"

Elijah sighed. "Please don't say anything that'll make him mad at me."

Mac scowled and ruffled Elijah's hair. "Hey," He said shrugging his shoulders. "What harm can it do now? Let him get mad!"

Elijah looked so despondent that Mac grinned and hugged him again. "Don't worry, buddy. If he gets mad, I'll make sure it's at me, not you."

He stood up. "You staying here?"

Elijah held out his hand silently and Mac hauled him to his feet. "No." Elijah said quietly. "But I'm not going back to the table. I'm gonna just mingle a bit and then leave." He stubbed his cigarette out on the   
veranda floor and pocketed the butt. "Tell the others, will you?"

Mac nodded and turned to walk to the door with him. When they reached it, Elijah smiled at him, patted his shoulder, and started to walk away.

The sight of his retreating back caused Mac's stomach to dip in fear and he hurried to catch Elijah up.

"Lij, wait," he asked, turning the young man around to face him again. "Please." He entreated. "Please, Elijah. Don't give up on him."

Elijah shook his head. "Don't worry." His beautiful face grew luminous as he smiled sadly. "I won't. I won't, because I have no choice. And I won't because I don't want to." He looked down at his shoes for a moment, then raised his head again. "I love him," he breathed.

Mac nodded. "I'm glad you do, Elijah. Truly glad."

Elijah suddenly gripped both of Mac's arms tightly. "Take care of him," he begged sorrowfully. "He won't let me. So please. You take care of him for me, Mac."

"Oh, I'll take care of him alright." Mac said caustically. "You just wait and see how good I take care of him."

Elijah had to smile at Mac's delivery.

"Lij, please don't leave before you talk to me. Please hunt me up to say goodbye. OK?"

"You got it, buddy." Elijah replied. Then he turned and was immediately enveloped by the crowd.

Mac walked slowly back to the table where Sean and the other two hobbits were waiting. Sean looked questioningly at Mac. "Is he OK?" he asked quietly.

Mac tilted his head toward the back of the room. "Yeah. Seemingly so. He's back there being charming."

Billy got up. "I'm gonna go check on him." He chirped.

Dom got to his feet too. He grabbed his glass and downed the last of his drink. Sitting it down he swiped a hand across his mouth and turned to Billy. "Going with you, Scot."

They wandered off in search of Elijah.

Mac sat back down and lifted his drink toward his brother in a toast. Sean responded in kind and they both drank. "You're not going too?" Mac inquired, nodding in the direction the hobbits had taken.

"Can you see any way that my going would make things better?" Sean asked, leaning toward his brother. "Is there anything I could give him that would do anything except harm him in the long run?"

"A hug?" Mac replied.

Sean waved his hand at Mac as if dismissing him. "Jesus, Mac! That's the worst thing I could do!" He slammed the rest of his drink, sat the empty glass down hard, and reached behind him to snag a   
waiter with a full tray. Then, with a fresh drink in his hand, he turned   
and toasted Mac again.

Mac frowned. "I don't like how much you're drinking."

"And I don't like how much you're talking. Or what you're talking about." Sean countered. "I want you to stop. Now."

"Sorry. No can do." Mac told him, leaning forward to grab Sean's new drink. He silently and slowly poured it into the table's centerpiece and leaned forward again to set the empty glass in front of Sean. "Can I   
grab you a coffee? Diet Pepsi, maybe?"

Sean laughed softly and shook his head in amused frustration. Then he looked up at Mac with a fond smile. "OK. OK. I'll take a coffee."

Mac hailed a coffee-bearing waiter and grabbed a cup for both of them.

"So," Sean said, sipping his coffee. "What did Elijah have to say?"

"That you dissed him, and that it pretty much broke his heart."

"He said that?" Sean yelped, astonished. "He really said that?"

"No." Mac replied. "That's my take on it. He was kinder. And he didn't   
have to tell me about the broken heart. It was written all over his   
face." Mac hesitated, then spoke quietly. "But even that was easier to   
take than what showed in his eyes."

Sean gnawed his lower lip and stared over Mac's left shoulder.

"Sean, you never did answer my question about how you feel about him."

"Yeah, I did." Sean murmured. "I told you this wasn't the time or place for that kind of discussion." He waved his hand vaguely behind him, indicating the encircling crowd.

Mac rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Convenient, huh?" Sean looked at him steadily but gave no response.

"Want to go someplace else and talk about it?" Mac asked finally.

"What makes you think I want to talk about it at ALL?" Sean ground out sotto voice. "You're sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, Mac."

Mac moved to take the chair next to Sean. He pressed his brother's arm and leaned toward him. When he spoke, his voice was tender. "Sean, that boy is in pain. Real pain. You didn't see his eyes. You refuse to look into them. You turn away. But I looked into them, Sean. I looked."

Sean gasped and wheeled quickly away from Mac, his hands clenching into fists of anguish, his teeth clamping hard on his lower lip. It didn't require psychological insight to read this reaction. It was   
right there, visible to anyone who cared to look. Sean was in as much pain as Elijah, and not managing it nearly as well.

"Mac!" Sean croaked. "Please stop telling me these things!" He lifted his brother's hand off his arm and started to stand up. But Mac wasn't done yet and pulled him back down by the same arm. "Wait. Just wait a second."

Sean stood up quickly. This time he removed his brother's hand with a rough twist of his shoulders. "Do you want a ride home? Or are you staying here.Because I'm leaving." Sean turned and began to stride toward the door, not even looking back to see if Mac was following.

"Sean, wait!" Mac yelled, scrambling after him. "Damn stubborn mule," he growled under his breath as he trailed Sean to the coat room.

Sean was jerking a top coat on when Mac finally caught up with him. He sighed and shook his head, then took another black top coat off the rack and held it out to Sean. "You might want to try wearing your own coat."

Sean glared at him, threw the other top coat to the floor, and grabbed his own. "I know you think you're very clever," he spouted to his brother. "But you're not. You're messing in things that could change people's lives, Mac. That could change my children's lives!" He was trying to don his topcoat but got the sleeve tangled. "God damn it!" Sean cried, wrestling with the garment.

Mac quickly stepped forward and grabbed the coat. He held it so his brother could put it on, then slipped his arms around Sean from behind and hugged him tight. "You think I don't know that?" he whispered. "You think I don't know that my nieces, who I love very much, could have their lives turned upside down by all this? I'd never hurt those girls, Sean."

He dropped his arms and Sean turned to look at him, his eyes tilted in a soft smile. "I know, Mac. I know. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

Mac laid his palms on Sean's broad shoulders, thinking for a moment how much he loved his older brother. His brave knight in shining armor, his friend and protector. "I know the impact this could have on the girls," he murmured, squeezing Sean's shoulders hard. "And please don't think I take it lightly. But other people are hurting too. What about Elijah? God, Sean, that poor boy is devastated. He broke my heart tonight begging me to take care of you for him."

Sean's head dropped and Mac saw his lower lip quiver a split second before Sean bit it hard.

Mac kept his hand on Sean's shoulder and guided him out the door. They walked down the hall in silence. Sean's head was still down, and Mac knew that his big brother was struggling not to cry. He spotted a small lobby and guided Sean over to some chairs.

"Sit," he murmured, pushing on Sean's shoulder. Sean dropped into the chair without protest. His breath was a shudder in his chest and he was still mercilessly worrying his lower lip.

"I take it," Mac said softly. "That you feel the same way about him that he does about you."

Sean stared at the wall opposite to him. He had succeeded in stopping his tears, but not before several had tracked down his face. He made no move to wipe them away and his face was a study in misery. Even Sean's body language suggested a spirit on the edge of losing itself.

Mac's heart ached and he reached out and took his brother's hand. "Am I right, Sean?" He asked again.

Sean didn't shake his hand off, nor did he clasp it. He simply let his hand lay motionless in Mac's, much like a trusting child. He drew a trembling sigh and shrugged his shoulders.

"God, Mac. I dunno." He finally lifted his other hand to his face to swipe at the dampness there. "I never let him talk much about how he felt about me. I suppose I feel the same. I don't know. All I feel most   
of the time when I think about him is afraid to feel more. Afraid to think more. Afraid to try to define what I'm feeling."

Mac smiled and tightened his grip on Sean's hand. "Tell you what, buddy. I understand that completely."

Sean looked at him quickly, taken by surprise. "You do?"

"Sure!" Mac replied. "In our household, strong emotions meant one thing. Trouble. BIG trouble. Scary trouble. Painful trouble." He glanced at Sean and smiled. "And unless I miss my guess, you feel some pretty strong emotions when it comes to Elijah."

Sean turned to look at him. "What did he tell you?"

"That it was your idea that you not see each other any more except at public events. That you wanted it that way." He shrugged. "That's about it other than asking me to take care of you."

Sean looked away again.

"Oh." Mac said softly, as if remembering. "He also said that he loves you."

Sean sighed deeply. "Yeah. I know he does."

"And," Mac said quietly. "If his reaction when he talks about this stuff is any indication, this isn't some easily gotten-over crush. He, apparently, loves you very much."

Sean nodded.

"Enough," Mac continued. "That he's willing to honor your wishes even though it breaks his heart to do it."

Sean pulled his hand away from Mac's and ran both hands distractedly through his curly brown hair. "Mac, the list of reasons why a relationship between Elijah and me is impossible is so long and so obvious that I'd think even you wouldn't need to be convinced of what a bad idea it would be."

"Well," Mac drawled. "Run the top 5 or so by me just to see how hard they'd be to shoot down."

Sean was forced to grin. "Fine. I'll start with the obvious."

"You're married with kids." Mac said for him.

"Right." Sean replied. "Shoot that one down."

"No one said you had to leave your family." Mac said. "But given that you're Dudley Do-Right and wouldn't do it any other way . . ." He let his sentence trail off, obviously trying not to smile.

Sean laughed. "Right. We must go on the Dudley Do-Right premise."

Mac shook his head. "Sean, people get divorced every day and their lives are made a thousand times the better for it. I refuse to believe that your feelings for Elijah would have happened at all if your   
marriage was what it should be."

"What about my daughters?" Sean asked him, his voice hard.

"What about them?" Mac said sharply. "Jesus Christ, Sean. I know you better than anyone on Earth knows you! You'd be the world's best father if you lived in fucking China because that's just the kind of man you are!"

Sean sighed. "And when they woke up at night with a bad dream and Daddy wasn't there?"

"Right." Mac said after a moment. "That would suck. And I never suggested that there was anything pain-free about this. Only that the end result is often better than what came before or what will come after if you maintain the status quo."

Sean shook his head.

"I doubt very seriously," Mac said slowly. "That Chris has any desire to play out the role of Rosie Cotton."

Sean looked up and grinned. "Rosie Cotton? What about her?"

Mac shrugged. "Oh, she had her legal husband alright. He fathered a passel of kids and she got to be the mayor's wife. But she lived with a man whose heart and soul were far, far away. You suppose that   
made for a happy life?"

Sean didn't answer.

"And when Sam smiled at her, and went all gentle and patted her hand and said it was nothing when she asked him what was wrong and why he had that faraway look, do you suppose she didn't know who he was thinking about? Where he wanted to be? Who he wanted to be with?" He settled back in his chair and shook his head. "She knew, Sean. And she deserved better."

"And what about Elijah?" Sean asked him. "Do you honestly believe I'd be demonstrating love for him to saddle him with me?"

Mac lowered his eyebrows. "Saddle him? I doubt he sees it that way."

"He's 21 years old!" Sean spouted.

"So?" Mac retorted. "I can't see that his age has any bearing on the situation. He's the most mature 21-year-old I know. Christ, even Viggo said it. And. . . " He looked shrewdly at Sean. "When it comes to feelings he's probably a lot older and wiser than you."

"Maybe." Sean said quietly. "But Jesus, Mac." He shook his head in protest, then touched his brother's arm. "Look. He's 21 with the world at his feet. He's the biggest star in Hollywood. The places all this could take him are beyond imagining. He has an incredible career ahead of him doing something that he's not only great at, but that he completely loves."

"And . . . " Mac prompted.

"And an open relationship with me would shoot that down in a   
heartbeat."

"It wouldn't have to be open, at least not at first." Mac replied. "And I'm not so sure that you're right about it shooting down his career even if it was out in the open. Things aren't like they used to be. Look   
at Ian!"

Sean smiled at the mention of Ian's name. "Elijah is a 21 year old male. The roles that would be offered to him wouldn't be like the ones Ian can bag. Lij is going to be a leading man! A Tom Hanks! A Harrison Ford!" Sean spouted. "But," he said, holding up a finger in warning. "Not if he's in a gay relationship with me."

Mac waved at him disdainfully. "Ahhh, tell it to Rock Hudson."

They both burst into laughter.

"Sean, everything you're saying may have a grain of truth in it, but there's one very important thing you're overlooking."

"And what's that?" Sean asked him.

"The fact that you're making assumptions about what Elijah wants in his life and what his priorities are. Maybe he'd prefer a life with you even if it meant not being a big Hollywood star."

Sean looked at his feet for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Don't matter what he prefers."

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear it." Mac said sarcastically.

"Mac, you don't' get it." Sean said, leaning toward his brother. "I'm his Sam. He's my Frodo. Now 'til the end of fucking time. That never ends. Never. That never changes. There's no Grey Havens for us. He might prefer to sacrifice his life out of love for me. But it's my job to take care of him. And it wouldn't be taking care of him to let him do a thing like that!"

"Is it taking care of the one you love to force him into a life that is the same thing as a living death to him? Is it taking care of the one you love to force him into a life where every breath he takes is filled with pain and longing and where no amount of star status or material goods can even begin to heal the hurt in his heart or the emptiness in his soul? Do you see THAT as loving him, Sean? Because I saw that boy's face today and that is just what you'd be forcing him into."

Sean stared at him, his eyes growing shiny with tears.

"You want to take care of him?" Mac asked him. "Then go put your arms around him and beg him to forgive you for being the world's biggest jerk."

"Put my arms around him." Sean repeated softly.

"Is that the part that's bothering you?" Mac asked him. "The 'gay' part?"

Sean threw him a disdainful look. "Get serious."

Mac laughed and shrugged. "Just asking."

Sean looked away for a moment, and then sighed. "Mac, I'm . . . " He hesitated, knowing his brother wouldn't like what he was about to say.

"What?" Mac asked. "You're what?"

"I'm 10 years older than him. I come from a totally different background. And it's made me . . . weird."

Mac laughed. "Well, I'll buy that. But I would imagine that Elijah knows how weird you are already."

"No!" Sean said sadly. "No, he doesn't. He doesn't really realize how weird I am. I'm a compulsive, scared-to-death, anal, fuss-budget, who'd be angsting like a mother every time he left the house. He'd want to do his own stunts and I'd have a coronary. I nearly went berserk when he let the guys tie him up and whang him around for that 'watcher' scene. He'd want to go . . . go . . . " Sean searched for something adequately terrifying. ". . . bungie jump with Orli or something, and I'd throw a fit."

He sighed and scowled. "He'd end up hating me."

Mac laughed out loud. In fact he absolutely hooted. Sean managed an insulted glare and Mac hooted even louder.

"Well," Mac said, finally, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "There's more truth in that than in some of the other things you've said, but all of it still falls into the category of things that Elijah deserves to decide for himself. You don't have the right to decide that he'd be better off to freely bungie with Orli than put up with you fussing at him about it. He deserves to decide that for himself."

Sean was quiet for a long moment. "There's something else." He half-whispered.

Mac felt the hair on the back of his neck tingle. He sat up and turned his full attention on Sean. Up until now the discussion had been an intellectual exercise. Most of what they'd said, with the exception of   
things pertaining to his children, amounted to Sean rationalizing a position that he clearly didn't want to be in anyway. But Mac heard a deeply emotional under-current resonate in Sean's voice now. And he worried.

"What is it, Sean?" he asked quietly.

"Elijah . . . " Sean stammered. "He's . . . he's beautiful, Mac." His breath caught in his throat. "I mean . . . he's really beautiful."

"I know he is, Sean." Mac told him. "But what . . . "

Sean held his hand up, palm out. "Wait. Let me finish."

Mac nodded and waited silently.

Sean inspected the far wall, his hazel eyes glowing softly, focused on some internal vision. When he spoke, his voice was melodious, unlike anything Mac had heard before.

"It's like . . ," Sean breathed softly. "like . . . a mortal approaching the gates to heaven. They see a vision of beauty. A glimmer of light so glorious that it takes their breath and they know an angel is standing there. But," His lips tightened and his shoulders twitched slightly. "They won't look up. They'll never look up. And they'll never try to touch it. Just be in its presence and know that they're blessed simply because the light is there and falling on them."

He looked up at Mac with his heart in his eyes. "God, Mac. You can't own something like that. You can't claim it. You can't just reach out and touch it." Then he glanced down at his shoes. "At least . . . I   
can't."

For a long time the two brothers sat in silence. Mac felt the depth of Sean's conviction, but now he also knew the depth of his love for Elijah. He thought long and hard. Then he turned to Sean. "If you let   
him go, it will be the biggest mistake you ever make in your life."

"Mac. . . " Sean began, but Mac interrupted him.

"No! No, Sean." He drew a deep sigh. "Throw away everything except the last thing you said to me because it's all that counts. That's how much you love him, Sean. That's how deep it goes. And if you don't claim that life that you're longing for. . . that life with Elijah . . . " Mac studied his brother in silence for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice rasped with unshed tears.

"You'll be sixty, seventy, eighty years old, Sean. A man at the end, looking back on your life, And it'll be a dry, barren wasteland. Devoid of passion or joy. And as you look back you'll be saying one word   
over and over again. And that word will be his name."

Sean's breath caught in a half-sob and he turned his face away.

"Don't let it happen, Sean." Mac pleaded. "Give him a chance. Both of you deserve it."

Mac stood up and Sean turned to watch him. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

Sean turned back to the wall, thinking that Mac was headed to find a men's room. He took several deep breaths, trying to still the emotions that he feared were fracturing his world in two. He listened to Mac's   
step recede down the corridor.

Mac stepped back into the living room where the party was in full swing and looked around wildly for Elijah. Not seeing him, he searched the room for Dom or Billy thinking they'd know where he was. He saw none of them and for a moment his heart sank. God! He thought. Could they have left without us seeing them?

Suddenly, from the kitchen, he heard Elijah's high pitched Frodo-giggle, and breathed an immense sigh of relief. He opened the kitchen doors to see the three hobbits sitting on the counters, eating the remains of the catered pastries. He crooked his finger at Elijah. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Elijah raised his eyebrows and nodded quickly, jumping off the counter and walking to the doorway where Mac was standing. "What's up, Mac?" he asked, dusting pastry crumbs off his fingers.

"Would you come with me a second?" Mac asked him.

Elijah hesitated, fairly sure he knew where this side trip was leading. "Mac, he doesn't want me."

"Elijah, he wants you the exact same way he wants air to breathe." Mac assured him. "Please trust me on that one."

Elijah was skeptical and showed it. But he allowed himself to be led down the corridor to the little lobby where Sean was still sitting. Sean's eyes widened when he saw Eiljah walking with Mac.

"What's up?" Sean asked slowly, feeling his heart beginning to thunder in his chest. He started to rise, but Mac put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his chair. "Just sit."

Mac gestured to the chair beside Sean, indicating that Elijah should sit. Elijah took a half step toward the chair, glanced at Sean, hesitated, then turned toward a chair across from Sean instead. Mac   
growled and grabbed his shoulders. He spun him away from his chosen destination and plopped him in the chair next to Sean.

"What was it you were telling me earlier about him making up his own mind?" Sean said with a half-grin on his face. Elijah threw him a quizzical glance, but Sean refused to meet his eyes and didn't see it.

"Shaddup!" Mac snarled. "You two are definitely starting to get on my nerves."

Sean and Elijah looked at each other for the first time and both were grinning broadly. 'We're getting on HIS nerves?" Sean said, sounding stupefied.

They continued to look at each other, the smiles slowly fading from their faces. Sean glanced up at his tall brother then quickly looked down at his shoes. "What are you up to, Mac?"

"Elijah," Mac said quietly. "I have something to say to you, and I wanted to say it in front of my big brother here just so there's no question later on about what I said and why I said it."

"Mac," Elijah muttered. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He glanced to his left at Sean, who was still staring at his shoes.

"Elijah, when I asked you a while ago to please not give up on him, I meant every word of it." Sean glanced sharply at his brother, a small smile lighting his face.

"I know you meant it, Mac." Elijah breathed.

"But you can't give up on yourself either." Mac told him. "You seem to have the screwed up idea in your head that Sean actually knows what he's talking about. That he might even have something wise or useful to suggest regarding your relationship with him."

"Hey!" Sean protested. "I resemble that remark!" He was still smiling at Mac. He knew exactly what his brother was up to and felt a rush of gratitude. "Mac . . . " Sean began. "Listen . . . "

"No." Mac replied. "YOU listen!" Then he turned back to Elijah.

"For the love of God, Elijah, don't listen to him! Don't believe he has some college educated, higher minded, insight going for him when it comes to his feelings about you, or where your relationship should go, because nothing could be further from the truth."

Elijah glanced sideways at Sean and a small smile crept across his face.

Mac began to pace and rant at the same time. "Ignore him!" he said, pausing in front of Elijah. "Ignore the fuck right out of him!" He pointed at his brother. "Anytime he tells you that you two shouldn't be close or see each other alone or some such dumfuck thing, ignore him!"

"In fact," Mac said, sitting on his heels in front of Elijah. "What you have to do . . . " he paused and leaned forward as if conspiring with Elijah. "Is grab him, hug the fuck out of him, and tell him in no   
uncertain terms that you absolutely refuse to abide by such idiotic nonsense!"

"Tell him you love him," Mac said in a loud whisper. "He can't resist that. That'll get him where he lives. And even better . . ." Mac said jubilantly. " Even better . . . " He grabbed Elijah's arm and shook it.   
"Remind the silly ass that he loves YOU." Mac stood up and began to pace in front of them again.

"Make him feel guilty, Elijah! Jesus, that always works! Tell him how much he's hurting you with this bullshit! MAKE him look into your eyes! Don't just accept it and walk away like he's some all knowing relationship guru!" He stopped in front of Sean's chair. "This is not Dr. Fucking Phil!" Mac said, pointing at Sean. "This guy doesn't have a fucking CLUE!"

Sean and Elijah were both laughing. Mac put his hand on Elijah's shoulder. "Got it?" he asked.

"He's just trying to do the right thing, Mac." Elijah said softly.

"Right for WHO?" Mac countered! "Oh yeah! I know! He'll chew his leg off to keep someone else from being hurt. But sooner or later his pain has to count too. And," he said, ruffling Elijah's hair. "So does   
yours."

"OK," Mac said to them. "I'm done. Elijah, I've given you good advice. Please take it. I've already had a small taste of what he's like with you in exile, and believe me I don't want a steady diet of it. Make him   
reinstate you." He placed his palms on Sean and Elijah's heads. "Bless you my children." He intoned. Then he turned and walked out of the lobby and through the door to the stairwell.

Sean followed him with his eyes. "Wonder where he's going." He mused.

"Why?" Elijah asked.

"Because he came with me." Sean said, dangling his keys in his fingers.

They burst into laughter.

"I suspect he'll be back then." Elijah said, smiling.

Sean shrugged. "Maybe not. That was a pretty good exit scene. I doubt he'd want to try a second take. My guess is he'll grab a cab."

Elijah nodded, glancing sideways at Sean. "Look, Sean." He said quietly. "Mac shouldn't have put you on the spot that way." He stood up. "I'll just head back to . . . exile, I guess." He stuffed his hands in   
his pockets, a trait that Sean found particularly endearing and Frodo-like, and turned toward the door.

Sean reached up to grab his arm, tugging him back into the chair. "Please don't go." He whispered. Elijah sat down again and Sean let his hand drift down Elijah's arm. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for his larger hand to close over Elijah's smaller one, then draw it between both his hands.

Sean took a deep breath. "When Mac told me how hurt you were . . ." he tried to find an ending and couldn't. "Lij . . . I . . ."

Elijah shook his head. "Sean, I know Mac thinks he's right. But you have to do this your way. I know that. Of course I'm hurt. But I'm . . . I mean I'll . . ." He shook his whole body in frustration. "Jesus! Can't   
either one of us finish a sentence?"

"Yeah." Sean said in mock disgust. "We appear to have a communication problem." They both laughed again. Sean opened Elijah's hand and laid it palm-up on his right hand. Then he stroked Elijah's fingers and palm with his left. "I love how small your hands are." He sighed. "So tiny. So delicate. You could have been a surgeon or a painter."

"But not an actor?" Elijah said, smiling. Sean's fingertips skating over his skin shot electric bolts of both pleasure and pain through his body, and in spite of his best efforts, the hand Sean was caressing began to tremble.

"You're the best actor I know." Sean said softly. He was staring at Elijah's hand resting in his larger one, feeling his eyes beginning to burn. He had no idea how to deal with the feelings running, uncontrolled, through his mind and body.

He sighed and his breath sounded lacerated. "I need to tell you how sorry I am." Sean rasped. "I need to know you're not mad with me. I can't do anything `til I know that, Elijah."

Elijah pulled Sean to his feet and shoved him across the room to a small sofa that sat, half out of sight, in the far corner of the room. Once seated there, he took Sean's face in his hands and lifted it until   
they were looking into each other's eyes.

"I am not mad at you." Elijah whispered. "No matter what you decide. No matter what you do. Anger doesn't enter into it." He gazed into Sean's eyes, seeing the unhappiness there. "What can I do to help?" He murmured. "Do you want me to go away, Sean?"

"No." Sean said. He turned his head and kissed Elijah's fingers as they rested against his cheek, then turned again to kiss his other hand. "I don't ever want you to go away again. I can't bear it when   
you're not part of my life. I'm so miserable I want to die half the time. Can you ever forgive me for how much I've hurt you?"

Elijah moved his hands forward until his arms were around Sean's neck. "Sean . . ." He began, then faltered and couldn't speak. He pressed his face against Sean's shoulder.

Sean wound his arms around Elijah and held him with all his strength. Then Sean moaned softly and nuzzled Elijah's cheek. For a long, long time they held each other close. Savoring the feeling of their bodies  
touching. Breathing each other in like air.

"I never want to let you go." Sean whispered. "Never."

"Then don't." Elijah breathed against his cheek. "Don't."

After a few more minutes Elijah leaned back a bit and winked at Sean. "And Mac thought I'd have to convince you."

Sean laughed and kissed his forehead gently. "He had me convinced before he ever went to fetch you. God, don't tell him though. Let him think those sarcastic speeches of his wore you down."

Elijah laughed. "Yeah, well they were pretty good, you know."

Sean scowled skeptically. "Riiiight. Like I could ever be motivated by guilt!"

Elijah shook with laughter. "Who YOU?" Elijah scoffed? "Nevah!"

Sean pulled Elijah's hands from around his neck and, holding them in his two hands, raised them to his lips. He looked down at the face he loved and saw radiant joy glowing there. "Guess you can at that." He   
whispered, caressing Elijah's cheek.

"Can what?" Elijah asked.

"Touch an angel." Sean murmured.

"God, Sean. I'm no angel."

"Eye of the beholder." Sean replied. "Hey, can we . . . like . . . go someplace else? Someplace more. . uh . . . private?"

Elijah nodded slowly. "My place?" he suggested. "No one's there."

Sean nodded and stood up, pulling Elijah up with him. Then he leaned over to kiss his cheek softly. "And you are too an angel!"

Elijah walked with Sean to the elevator and pushed the button. "Who decided that?" Elijah laughed.

"Mac and me." Sean said with a wink.

The doors opened and seeing that the elevator was empty, Elijah leaped up into Sean's embrace, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He was swiftly carried into the elevator and pressed against   
the far wall. Sean's mouth came down hard on his.

The doors closed behind them.


End file.
